She's With The Band
Chapter 14;
Imelda Quinton had never been a fan of dishonesty, which was very hypocritical because she was one of the best liars around. However, the situation with Alex bothered her. She knew about Lisa. Everyone knew about Lisa. She also knew what she felt when Jack kissed her the night before. It was completely innocent, of course, and she had immediately climbed back into Jack’s place while he drove. She couldn’t ignore the smell of mint and Axe on his pillows and the warmth she felt when they’d exchange meaningful looks in the rear view mirror. She wouldn’t ignore any of it.
What Imelda didn’t know was that Alex had woken up when Jack was shrieking in his sleep the previous night. He stayed quiet and observed his best friend and his… well, what exactly was Imelda to him? It was obvious they were not in love- even more so than before with this display of affection between Imelda and Jack. But he deeply, deeply cared about her. And he knew she was beautiful. One of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen. Alex was getting exactly what he needed from Imelda- a pair of arms to hold him and soft lips to kiss him. He needed a placeholder until he got what he really wanted- maybe even needed- and that was the real love of his life. That was not Lisa Ruocco any longer.
When the band pulled up outside a gas station the next morning at four, Jack stumbled out and fell to the oil-covered ground. Imelda followed soon after and stood over him, giving him a perfect view up her loose All Time Low booty shorts. Imelda didn’t seem to notice, so Jack giggled and grabbed at her legs. She squealed and toppled over on top of him.
“Fuck you, Barakat…” she sighed, rolling over and lying next to him on the pavement. He laughed and kept poking her bare leg with his flip-flop. She rolled her eyes and picked herself up, leaning against the machine and inserting Matt’s credit card.
“So. Coffee?” Jack suggested, tugging on Imelda’s free hand.
“We can’t just leave the van here. The boys might get stolened!” Imelda exclaimed, already inserting the gas pump and shuffling toward Jack. He tightened his grip on her hand and smiled.
“There’s no one out here. Come get coffee with me.”
Imelda and Jack took off toward the McDonald’s next door and ten minutes later, found themselves sitting at a booth inside the deserted fast food restaurant outside the city limits of San Francisco.
“Mellon Mellon Mellon!” Jack giggled, taking a massive bite of his Big Mac. Imelda wrinkled her nose at his eating such a disgusting choice at that ungodly hour of the day.
“Jack Jack Jack!” she mimicked, gulping down some coffee. She would need some serious caffeine to keep up with him.
“So this whole thing,” he began before chomping down another bite of his burger, “with Alex has gotten really fucking annoying. We both know he’s not over Hayley.”
Imelda was somewhat taken aback at Jack’s bluntness. She sipped at her coffee again and felt her foot start to shake under the table.
“And we also know that we kissed last night for a reason. You like me,” Jack stated plainly. Imelda’s head shot back around from where she was watching the van to make sure the rest of the band wasn’t kidnapped. She stared at Jack, waiting for him to crack a smile or laugh. Or something.
“You kissed me, asshole!” she shrieked. Jack started laughing and grabbed Imelda’s foot under the table to keep it from shaking.
“You’re driving me nuts. Keep your fucking feet still,” he commanded. But he didn’t let go. He just held her leg in his lap, tapping his hard, calloused fingers against her bare ankle. Imelda watched him affectionately, noticing the little details about him that were lost in the hundreds of YouTube videos she had stalked.
His nose was an obvious feature on his face. She could see the bump on it from when he dove off a stage and broke it. He hadn’t shaved in a few days and had a mature-looking five-o’clock shadow growing. His dark beady eyes shone with delight at Imelda’s touch, looking completely mesmerized at the simple facets of her foot. The light stripes of bleached hair mixed with the rest of his dyed mane and fell over his olive forehead. Jack’s face was so perfect it was hard to stare at for too long. So Imelda looked away and stared at his twig-like arms, clad in ratty old bracelets and stick on Playboy bunny tattoos.
Suddenly, Imelda stood up and held her coffee cup in her frail hand. Jack stared at her; he was worried he had offended her by mentioning Alex. She shot him a shy half smile, one that was very unlike Imelda. She sat down next to Jack and scooted into the booth. She placed her hand in his.
“Here. Play with this instead,” she suggested. Jack grinned and traced circles on her hand while she chugged down the last of both their coffees. Imelda was surprised when he didn’t follow up with a ‘that’s what she said’. Jack didn’t even seem to notice.
What Imelda didn’t know was that Alex had woken up when Jack was shrieking in his sleep the previous night. He stayed quiet and observed his best friend and his… well, what exactly was Imelda to him? It was obvious they were not in love- even more so than before with this display of affection between Imelda and Jack. But he deeply, deeply cared about her. And he knew she was beautiful. One of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen. Alex was getting exactly what he needed from Imelda- a pair of arms to hold him and soft lips to kiss him. He needed a placeholder until he got what he really wanted- maybe even needed- and that was the real love of his life. That was not Lisa Ruocco any longer.
When the band pulled up outside a gas station the next morning at four, Jack stumbled out and fell to the oil-covered ground. Imelda followed soon after and stood over him, giving him a perfect view up her loose All Time Low booty shorts. Imelda didn’t seem to notice, so Jack giggled and grabbed at her legs. She squealed and toppled over on top of him.
“Fuck you, Barakat…” she sighed, rolling over and lying next to him on the pavement. He laughed and kept poking her bare leg with his flip-flop. She rolled her eyes and picked herself up, leaning against the machine and inserting Matt’s credit card.
“So. Coffee?” Jack suggested, tugging on Imelda’s free hand.
“We can’t just leave the van here. The boys might get stolened!” Imelda exclaimed, already inserting the gas pump and shuffling toward Jack. He tightened his grip on her hand and smiled.
“There’s no one out here. Come get coffee with me.”
Imelda and Jack took off toward the McDonald’s next door and ten minutes later, found themselves sitting at a booth inside the deserted fast food restaurant outside the city limits of San Francisco.
“Mellon Mellon Mellon!” Jack giggled, taking a massive bite of his Big Mac. Imelda wrinkled her nose at his eating such a disgusting choice at that ungodly hour of the day.
“Jack Jack Jack!” she mimicked, gulping down some coffee. She would need some serious caffeine to keep up with him.
“So this whole thing,” he began before chomping down another bite of his burger, “with Alex has gotten really fucking annoying. We both know he’s not over Hayley.”
Imelda was somewhat taken aback at Jack’s bluntness. She sipped at her coffee again and felt her foot start to shake under the table.
“And we also know that we kissed last night for a reason. You like me,” Jack stated plainly. Imelda’s head shot back around from where she was watching the van to make sure the rest of the band wasn’t kidnapped. She stared at Jack, waiting for him to crack a smile or laugh. Or something.
“You kissed me, asshole!” she shrieked. Jack started laughing and grabbed Imelda’s foot under the table to keep it from shaking.
“You’re driving me nuts. Keep your fucking feet still,” he commanded. But he didn’t let go. He just held her leg in his lap, tapping his hard, calloused fingers against her bare ankle. Imelda watched him affectionately, noticing the little details about him that were lost in the hundreds of YouTube videos she had stalked.
His nose was an obvious feature on his face. She could see the bump on it from when he dove off a stage and broke it. He hadn’t shaved in a few days and had a mature-looking five-o’clock shadow growing. His dark beady eyes shone with delight at Imelda’s touch, looking completely mesmerized at the simple facets of her foot. The light stripes of bleached hair mixed with the rest of his dyed mane and fell over his olive forehead. Jack’s face was so perfect it was hard to stare at for too long. So Imelda looked away and stared at his twig-like arms, clad in ratty old bracelets and stick on Playboy bunny tattoos.
Suddenly, Imelda stood up and held her coffee cup in her frail hand. Jack stared at her; he was worried he had offended her by mentioning Alex. She shot him a shy half smile, one that was very unlike Imelda. She sat down next to Jack and scooted into the booth. She placed her hand in his.
“Here. Play with this instead,” she suggested. Jack grinned and traced circles on her hand while she chugged down the last of both their coffees. Imelda was surprised when he didn’t follow up with a ‘that’s what she said’. Jack didn’t even seem to notice.